


The Whistling Journeyman

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [283]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance, jinnobi challenge 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Our lads enjoy a romantic autumn weekend at a nearby inn.





	The Whistling Journeyman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Helen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen/gifts), [davaia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/davaia/gifts), [OddlyExquisite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddlyExquisite/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta Helen   
> Laura McEwan for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3   
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> For the [jinnobi challenge 2018](https://infinitejedilove.tumblr.com/tagged/jinnobi-challenge-2018) by [InfiniteJediLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteJediLove/pseuds/InfiniteJediLove)

"We really needed this wee vacation, ma gradh," Ian purred as he kissed his husband's chin.

Quinn rumbled in satisfaction. "Too true, laddie." 

It was 8:02 pm on Friday, October 5th, and the professors had just finished the first five weeks of the semester, always the hardest part to get through. They'd decided to treat themselves to a little getaway and had checked in about two hours ago. 

"Mmmmm," Ian hummed. "It's just as cozy as 'The Wayfarers Inn'." 

High praise, indeed, for their weekend lodgings. They'd wanted to savor the change of the seasons in Upstate New York with its glory of leaves turning into their rich autumnal palette, so Case and Billie had recommended 'The Whistling Journeyman' in Danton near the Hudson River, where the department chairman and his wife had stayed last year. It was a 200-year-old inn with a proud tradition of gourmet meals that Case had described in detail. Quinn and Ian were hooked. 

The innkeepers were a charming couple, Maisie and Dorothy Canatta, with Maisie ushering them into their room on the ground floor. It had a king-sized bed with a milk-chocolate-brown comforter and oak furniture, with a television on top of the dresser. Two armchairs faced the window, which looked out on an apple orchard. 

It was still only Friday night, so the men had two full days of fun ahead of them. They were sitting in front of the fieldstone fireplace in their room, snuggling into each other and the over-stuffed tan sofa. Both of them wore corduroy slacks and the Aran sweaters that Quinn's Aunt Maureen had sent them, perfectly suited to the nighttime temperature in the 40s. They'd have to leave for dinner soon, since the dining room closed at 10 pm, but neither was in any hurry to stop their cuddling. 

Finally, Quinn's stomach rumbled, reminding them that they'd wind up eating sandwiches in their room if they didn't get up now. "C'mon, me boyo," said Quinn, who reluctantly disentangled from his herven, stood up, and lifted Ian to himself gently. "Time for all good lads to rise and shine." 

"You could coax Artoo out of his favorite chew-toy, Master Qui," Ian said admiringly. He snuck in another kiss, then headed to the bathroom to get ready. 

Quinn's chuckle rumbled to match his stomach as he banked the fire.

* * *

There were only two other couples in the dining room by the time they made it to dinner. Dorothy sat them by a picture window overlooking a pond. She gave them hand-written menus and returned to bring them water and her famous sourdough rolls. 

Sure enough, wienerschnitzel was on the menu since Oktoberfest had already started. They decided to order it, along with red cabbage, spaetzle, and sweet potatoes. When Dorothy told them that the apples in the strudel were from the inn's own orchard, they couldn't resist it, either. 

Quinn was already glad that their friends had recommended the inn. He buttered his roll, with the butter melting into the bread faster than he could eat it. "This reminds me of last year, when we celebrated Halloween at Der Krayton Drachen on the last day of Oktoberfest." 

"Mmmm-hmmm," Ian said, then took a sip of water. "Even better because we still have almost four weeks before Halloween." 

Quinn nodded. "Nothing like October -- it's Halloween Month." He took a bite of his second roll. "I'm looking forward to our M.R. James story this year. Which one would you like to dramatize this time?" 

"How 'bout 'The Mezzotint'? I like the way the picture changes every time..." Ian trailed off when Dorothy came by with their schnitzel. "Thank you, ma'am," he said to her politely. 

"Sounds like a good choice," Quinn agreed. He started spooning over some spaetzle, just as Ian forked over about a third of his schnitzel. 

They concentrated on their meal in the here and now, just as Quinn approved of. He soaked his veal in lemon and relished every bite. They must have spent at least twenty minutes just on the main course until at last their plates were almost dishwasher-clean. It felt like resurfacing from meditation when their conversation started up again. 

"What would you like to do tomorrow?" Quinn asked, knowing that Ian always did his research on their vacations. 

Ian grinned at him in anticipation. "Let's head up the bike path by the Hudson. There's a crafts fair a few miles from here I'd like to visit." 

"Sounds lovely," Quinn said, taking his husband's hand. "We should get a new comforter and quilt; we haven't replaced ours in years." 

"Good idea." Ian squeezed Quinn's fingers. "And new cushions for the pups' baskets." 

Dorothy brought them dessert and asked about coffee, then. Quinn chose the pumpkin-spiced macchiato, while Ian ordered a butterscotch cappuccino. The strudel was topped with cinnamon ice cream, which made it even more delectable. The men could tell that the apples had been picked that very morning when they took the first bite of strudel. Quinn tried his best, Master Yoda notwithstanding, to make it last. 

Meals were included in the price of their stay, so Ian left a generous tip, and they ambled back to their room. They used the facilities in turn, then Quinn rekindled the fire in their hearth while Ian got their books from his duffel bag, 'The Longest Journey' by E.M. Forster for Quinn and 'Ivanhoe' by Sir Walter Scott for himself. They sat in the armchairs by the window for an enjoyable hour engrossed in their literary adventures. 

Ian looked up at a yawn from Quinn, asking, "Time for bed?" 

Quinn nodded with a sleepy smile and they got ready for the night. The men dove under the comforter, slightly puffier than the one at home, and automatically curled into each other. They shared a sweet goodnight kiss, even though they were really too tired for it. Within moments, they were asleep.

* * *

Quinn awakened the next morning to the sound of a bluejay twittering away in an apple tree a few yards away from their window. Ian was still asleep, his sleep-mussed copper strands tickling Quinn's chest. Even though he had on his plaid pajamas, Ian's hair managed to brush inside the vee of his shirt. Quinn also wore an indulgent smile; this was a better way to wake up than birdsong. 

He gently ran his fingertips through soft copper spikes, drawn to them like a magnet, while doing his best not to awaken his lad.. His morning erection stirred along with Ian, getting a bit harder with every second. He slid his hand under the waistband of his pajama pants and gripped his cock firmly. 

Apparently, their Jedi telepathy was working in Danton because Ian chose that moment to wake up. "Good morning, handsome," he murmured, voice still rough with sleep. 

"And good mornin' to you, love." Quinn started to take his hand off his erection, but Ian, what with his Jedi reflexes, was quicker and covered Quinn's hand with his own. 

"Now this is the way to get up," Ian said with enthusiasm. His emphasis on the last word was positively gleeful. "What would you like to do about it?" 

Quinn gave out a low chuckle. "In deference to our lovely innkeepers, let's take a shower to spare the sheets." 

Ian snorted and reluctantly took his hand off Quinn's velvet heat to pull the covers off both of them. He was completely awake by now and ready to play. 

They paused only to relieve themselves in turn, then got into the shower, which luckily for them had a rubber mat. Maisie clearly believed in luxurious toiletries: Yardley soap, lime shampoo, and conditioning mousse. Fortunately, the soap was a man-sized bar, but they didn't want to clean themselves yet. Standing under the massaging spray, Ian gave Quinn the first kiss of the day, with the eight hours in between their goodnight kiss and this one increasing his enthusiasm. 

"Mmmmm. Saturday..." Quinn rumbled.. 

"And on vacation, to boot," added Ian. He ran his hand up and down Quinn's back, then cupped his buttock, earning a hum of delight. 

Quinn gave open-mouthed kisses to every inch of Ian he could reach, while caressing Ian's chest and stomach. "Remind me to get away more often." 

"I'll also remind you to touch me right there more often, too." Sure enough, Ian pointed to the spot under his right rib that was particularly sensitive. 

"What's your pleasure this fine mornin'?" asked Quinn. 

"Let's put this fancy soap to good use," Ian answered. He coated Quinn's twitching penis thoroughly with it, then prepared himself. He braced his hands against blue tiles, cocking his hips, and looked over his shoulder with a grin. His grin deepened even further when he heard a gasp from his husband.

Quinn didn't need a formal invitation. He positioned his lad, then himself, and pressed in, as inexorable as the sunrise. Now it was Ian's turn to gasp when Quinn was inside him balls deep. A shudder of delight went through both of them like the Force itself, binding them together. 

Then Quinn started to move in just...the...right...way. Years of making love to Ian showed in the way he pushed in with the perfect amount of pressure, timing himself with masterly precision, as he drove his husband to the edge of orgasm. 

Ian was groaning "Qui!" over and over as if he'd never stop, and he wished Quinn would never stop, either. He writhed in abandon until he wriggled in such a provocative way that Quinn couldn't hold back his orgasm anymore. 

Quinn came in glorious spurts inside his herven, shouting out his pleasure all the while, just as Ian added his own splashes to the shower. As soon as he was able, Quinn took his weight off Ian and stood under the spray to rinse himself. Ian stayed plastered to the wall for a long moment, then wrapped around Quinn as if there were only one man in the shower. 

"Fuckin' fantastic!" Ian said when he could talk again. 

Quinn burst into laughter. "You have a way with words, darlin'." 

The men cleaned each other up, and if they hadn't come already, Ian would have been tempted to now. Quinn was the one who remembered to wash Ian's cream off the tiles before they got out of the shower. It was Ian's turn to laugh in appreciation of his husband's thoroughness, both in lovemaking and the clean-up afterwards. They dried one another thoroughly, paying particular attention to their hair and backs. 

One of the amenities of the inn was having long brown terrycloth bathrobes ready for them in the closet. Since they were planning on getting breakfast delivered to their room, they dressed in those robes now, rather than bothering with their street clothes. They'd brought their moccasins with them and put them on over thick socks. 

Ian called for room service, and they ordered croissant sandwiches with Havarti cheese and eggs over easy. Both of them also wanted lattes and fruit with their meal. They decided to continue reading their books until Dorothy brought them breakfast about twenty minutes later. Using the table between their armchairs, they ate as they enjoyed the view of the apple orchard in the sunlight. 

By the time they finished eating and dressing for the day, it was 10:22. Since it was 68 degrees outside, they wore Skyhawks t-shirts over shorts. Waving to Maisie and Dorothy as they headed out the door of the inn, the men followed the path by the Hudson, exchanging smiles with passersby.. They walked hand in hand as many of the other couples did; no one raised an eyelash, let alone an eyebrow. It was a beautiful morning, with the blue of the sky matching Quinn's eyes, dancing with good humor. Chipmunks, rabbits, and squirrels escorted them on their way, and finches serenaded them. 

The trees surrounding the path were glorious shades of gold, orange, and brown -- almost as glorious as their orgasms. Most of the leaves were still on the trees since it was only early October, and Ian got out his phone to snap pictures of the foliage. They asked a middle-aged man walking by to take their photograph with the trees in the background, which he did with a grin. 

They reached the crafts fair in 27 minutes, and it was bustling with customers. There were over forty booths offering seasonal goods as well as year-round household staples. They looked around for a while, listening to the music of a folk band on the lawn between booths. The band played 'John O'Dwyer of the Glen', and Quinn whistled along with them. 

About half an hour after they arrived, the men came to a booth with an elderly woman and her daughter selling blankets and other bedclothes. They saw a forest-green comforter made of the softest cotton they'd ever felt and knew they had to have it. A quilt in variegated shades of blue caught Ian's eye, and they decided to get that, too. Quinn let Ian hone his negotiating skills and nodded with approval at the agreed-upon prices. They had them sent home to Alder Run so they could shop without the packages weighing them down. 

A few minutes later, the two of them found a booth specializing in bedding for dogs. They saw two adorable cushions that would let Sandy and Artoo sink into softness and bought them after Quinn took his turn at the negotiations, handling them masterfully. The cushions would also be mailed home for an extra charge. 

They decided to head back to the inn now since both of them were ready for lunch soon. Quinn had his arm wrapped around his husband's shoulders as they ambled up the path. Along the way, they saw a couple of sailboats out for a joyride near the shoreline. The trees by the side of the path gave them more shade because it was almost 1 o'clock already, and the angle of the sun had changed since the first time they'd walked here. 

When they got back to the inn, the men went straight to their room so they could wash their faces and use the facilities. Quinn couldn't resist giving Ian a kiss before they left for lunch. Since it was after 1 pm, they were able to get a table by the window with a maple tree preening for Quinn on the lawn. 

Maisie was their waitress this time, and she brought over water, a honey-wheat loaf with herbed butter, and menus. Brook trout swimming in a Chardonnay reduction with baby carrots and wild rice was a stand-out, so both of them ordered it. No dessert for them because Maisie mentioned that she would bring fresh-baked tollhouse cookies to their room at 4:30. 

"Can't wait to snuggle under our new comforter with you," Ian said, his voice pitched in a low, intimate invitation. 

"'Twill be a wee bit o' heaven," Quinn rumbled, taking a sip of water. "And the puppies love to snuggle almost as much as we do, so they're sure to enjoy their new cushions, as plush as you please." 

"We have to thank Billie and Case for telling us about this place." Ian buttered his bread. "I'm even thinking of volunteering to teach the dreaded 'Victorian Doorstops' course." This was their private name for the Victorian Literature course, in which the books tended to weigh more than Artoo. 

Quinn's eyes widened. "The one with 'Bleak House'?" At Ian's nod, he continued, "You do remember that even *you* couldn't keep your students awake for that." 

Ian grinned. "You're right; I was getting carried away." 

Maisie came by with their meal so their conversation paused while they ate. The wine reduction was delectable, and they spooned up their vegetables to get every bit of sauce. When they were done, Quinn left a tip and they waved at Maisie as they headed to their room. 

"How 'bout a nap?" Ian suggested. 

"Ah, the perks of a vacation," said Quinn. 

All they had to do was empty their pockets and kick off their shoes, and they were ready for bed. Ian used Quinn's chest for his pillow as they cuddled into each other under the covers, asleep in seconds. Luckily, they woke up before Maisie knocked with the cookies. 

Quinn kissed the tip of Ian's nose, which was pleasantly cool compared to the warmth of the bed. "I saw a chess set in the lobby. Care for a game?" 

"You're on," Ian said, his competitive juices flowing already. 

Quinn left to use the facilities and borrow the set, then Ian had the bathroom to himself. They were finished with the game by the time Maisie came over with her cookies on a tray. Ever thoughtful, she'd also brought them vanilla cappuccinos. To their delight, the cookies were just as delicious as those of Prudence and Violet. The men moved the chess set to the dresser, so they could eat at the table between their armchairs. They munched away happily, gazing at a sparrow's antics right outside the window. 

"Let's read for a bit, then play badminton before dinner." Quinn had seen the rackets when he'd found the chess set. 

"I like the way you think," Ian said with a big grin. 

They did just as Quinn had suggested, almost halfway through their books by now. Then they went out to the side lawn to play badminton. The game was surprisingly vigorous, thanks to the high energy of the players. Quinn won because of his enormous wingspan. After returning the birdie and rackets, they took a walk around the beautiful grounds of the 'The Whistling Journeyman', from the orchard to the pond with imperious geese to little paths between stands of trees. By the time their walk was over, it was dusk and time to head back to the inn. 

While they were still out of sight of everyone but the geese, Quinn took advantage and gave Ian a gentle kiss that both of them felt down to their toes. One particularly offended goose squawked in high dudgeon, sending them into gales of laughter. 

They read a little bit more before dinnertime, did their ablutions, and dressed in plaid shirts over corduroy pants. The dining room was crowded on this Saturday night, hosting both overnight and dinner guests. They had to wait twelve minutes to be seated in a cozy corner by the far wall. 

Maisie was helping out Dorothy when she wasn't needed at the desk in the lobby. The men had plenty of time to pick out what they wanted tonight because everything took a little longer. Ian ordered filet mignon with a horseradish crust, while Quinn chose the lobster tail; both came with root vegetables in roasted garlic. 

They chatted the night away as they waited for their meal, their Jedi hearing letting them speak at an ordinary volume while folks talked loudly around them. 

"What's on tap for tomorrow?" Quinn asked, knowing that Ian probably had the day planned already. 

Ian answered with a question of his own. "Remember the restaurant we saw overlooking the Hudson when we were on the bike path today?" At Quinn's nod, he said, "Let's go there for lunch." 

Quinn said, "'Tis a fine idea, and let's start the day with the Autumn-Leaves kata." 

Dorothy brought them their meal, which turned out to be surf and turf for two after their high-level trading. They tucked into their food, happy that they'd gone easy on Maisie's cookies earlier, even though there had been quite a temptation to eat half a dozen. It was a toss-up which was more tender, the lobster meat or the steak, and they drizzled melted garlic butter over both of them. They decided not to have dessert since they'd indulged enough for one day, even on vacation. Ian left the tip this time, then they strolled to their room, where Quinn lit the fire.. 

Their books beckoned again, and they were soon off on academic and knightly adventures. Eyes growing heavy, Ian looked up at Quinn, beyond handsome in the firelight. 

"Ready for bedtime?" Ian asked on a yawn. 

"Just what I was thinking, darlin'," said Quinn sleepily. 

The two of them rushed through their nightly ablutions, then got into bed in flannel pajamas and thick socks. They fell asleep in two shakes of a Knight's tail.

* * *

Sunday morning had a definite New-Anoat vibe. Lazy, drenched in comfort and ease, with the simple joy of being together. Ian called for a room-service breakfast with blackberry jam and homemade oven-warm crumpets. They ate on the sofa by the fireplace, putting their food on the coffee table. After an hour of reading, Quinn got his wish when they practiced the autumn kata they had created themselves. The men had on only t-shirts over their boxer-briefs for ease of movement. They looked out at the orchard as they held the poses, each one a meditation of its own, inevitably leading to a kiss, the best way to celebrate their own private kata. 

They needed a shower now, and from the sparkle in Quinn's eye, Ian could tell that he was thinking of yesterday's lovemaking. 

"I'd like to take my time making love to you this mornin'," Quinn smiled at Ian's shiver, "so let's just clean up and get going." 

Their shower was efficient yet thorough, then they dried off and got right into bed, Ian only pausing to lay a towel down to protect the sheet. True to his word, Quinn got up on his elbow and started running his hand through Ian's hair while dotting little kisses all over his face. Ian hummed in pleasure, basking in the love he could feel from Quinn, which warmed him more than the fireplace. 

When he had kissed every square inch of Ian's face, Quinn lavished his neck, shoulders, and chest with suckles, kisses, and licks. Quinn could feel his husband's erection, as familiar as his own, stirring against his hip. A wide smile bloomed on his face. 

Ian was ready to return the favor now. He followed the same path of kisses on Quinn that his guid-man had pioneered on him, getting almost the same results with Quinn's murmurs of delight. Then he pulled Quinn on top of him so he could feel his cock hardening against his own. Chestnut hair brushed his cheek as Quinn got into it, thrusting lustily into Ian's warmth. 

One of the advantages of frottage was that it was less intense than penetration, so they could make love longer. Both of them deliberately held a bit back and didn't get into a rhythm, hoping to extend this to next Sunday. But when Quinn began to grunt, Ian knew he was close. Groaning himself, Ian raised his lips for a kiss just in time before the first splashes of semen heated his thighs and groin. Then Ian was coming too, spurred on by the delicious scent of his husband and his overwhelming orgasm. 

When he had the oomph, Quinn rolled to his side of the bed and lay on his back, sweat cooling on his stomach. 

"Good thing I chose a bath sheet to absorb our come." Ian chuckled at the mess they had made, glad they could simply soak the towel in the bathtub.

Of course, the men needed another shower now even more than the one they'd taken earlier. They cuddled a bit before getting up, then washed and dressed for the day. Deciding on their teaching shirts and slacks since they were going out to lunch, they were ready to leave quickly. They had almost a half-hour walk in front of them before they would reach the restaurant. 

It was a bit overcast today, but you'd never know it by their smiles. They saw a family of hedgehogs to the side of the bike path, and bluebirds soared above them. They'd worked up quite an appetite by the time they saw the restaurant, The Seagull's Fancy, only a few yards from the Hudson River. After waiting for fifteen minutes, they were seated by a window with a view of the river. 

Their waiter brought over two menus, along with a tray holding sparkling water and fresh biscuits with whipped butter. Both of them wanted the shrimp and scallops scampi with pesto gnocchi. They managed to eat only two biscuits apiece while waiting for their meal. 

"'Twas so nice of Dorothy to let us check out at 2," Quinn said. "We have time for a leisurely lunch now, thanks to her." 

Ian nodded. "Yes, and she and Maisie make such a delightful couple. I'm glad we met them." 

"What's your favorite thing about our vacation?" asked Quinn. 

Aware they were in public, Ian said, "What you wished for this morning," referring to their delicious frottage, which had seemed to go on for hours. 

"Definitely," Quinn agreed with a glint in his eye that the waiter providentially thought was because of the food, which came to the table just as Quinn spoke. 

Ian gleefully took two scallops from Quinn, then spooned a third of his gnocchi onto Quinn's plate, thankful that Quinn always loved his antics. 

They relished each bite and made the meal last as long as possible. When the waiter came by to recite the desserts, they decided to indulge in banana layer cake, one of their favorites. Both of them chose espresso to be ready for the drive back home. Quinn was the only one who could see the bit of icing decorating Ian's top lip, before his lad's tongue peeked out to lick it off. 

Ian paid for lunch with his MasterGuard, then they used the facilities, and strolled back to 'The Whistling Journeyman' hand in hand. They arrived at 1:38 so they had plenty of time to pack before checking out. Quinn took a wistful look at the bed and put his arms around Ian, giving him a deep kiss. 

"Now this is the way to celebrate autumn, m'lad," Quinn said with satisfaction. 

Ian gazed up at him in adoration, his well-kissed smile saying more than words. "You got that right, ma love."


End file.
